


"No! Just .... No!"

by J_Flattermann



Series: The March Warden of Lorién [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1313788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Flattermann/pseuds/J_Flattermann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all elves agree with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"No! Just .... No!"

Community Challenge - Picture Prompts D & G: Legolas & Gandalf

Prompt 1: “No. Just … no.”

Title: Sindarin vs Silvan Elf

Pairing: Legolas, Haldir of Lorién

Author: Others: Royal Court of Gondor, The King of Rohan, Rúmil and Oropher of Lorién (Haldir’s brothers)

Rating: PG-15

Word count: 2,539 Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. Characters all belong to JRR Tolkien estate. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Legolas is suspicious of Haldir’s presence in Minas Tirith.

 

 

 

There was a nagging at the back of Legolas’s mind. A nagging that wouldn’t go away. The Prince of Mirkwood knew exactly when it had started and where.

Many years ago when he had been Legolas of the Nine Walkers. When they had entered Lorién. There, that was where and when. 

He remembered well. When he and his host had been held up as soon as they had crossed the border and entered into the realm of Lord Celeborn.

Why had he felt that pang of jealousy when witnessing the greeting between the future king of Gondor and the Warden of the Galadhrim. He couldn’t say why he still felt offended. Only that he did,  as he just had learnt, that said Warden, whom he had thought perished from a lethal blow to the head, was not only still alive and quite recovered but also on his way from Imladris to Minas Tirith.

Legolas’s mood was at a low. Listless he poked with an arrow at a dead rabbit. Killed just minutes before to serve as his lunch. 

His hunger vanished as the sun behind the clouds in the sky as soon as he had heard. Boromir himself had brought him the news. 

It had been hard enough to watch how Boromir had stolen Aragorn’s affections, his heart, slowly but surely and to have to admit to the fact that Aragorn had no other feelings for him but of friendship.

But now … 

with the soon to be arrival of this poncy elf. 

Legolas knew he wasn’t fair. But at the same time he couldn’t care less.

There had always been rivalry between him and Haldir.

Especially as his father expected him to rule the Mirkwood elves after him. He knew Haldir loathed the thought, as he claimed to have the older rights.

Legolas hadn’t believed it at first. Only when Gandalf had shown him some very old scrolls that proved the legitimacy of Haldir’s claim. Only then …

But why… why were all Silvan elves under Sindarin rule? Why …

Legolas stopped poking his lunch and gave it rather a kick for good measure.

“Don’t misuse what you are planning to eat!” The old wizard’s voice boomed from behind Legolas’s back.

~~~ *** ~~~

Haldir hadn’t been happy to receive his marching order but with the three ruling Sindarin announcing that they were to leave Middle Earth, Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond had ordered him to become the Queen of Gondor’s knight, to keep her safe.

However the only other alternative was to bow to Lord Thranduil and join his brethren in Mirkwood and that he wouldn’t, couldn’t do. Also Haldir owed Lord Elrond his life. For that reason and that reason alone he accepted the order.

It was a changed Silvan elf that arrived at Minas Tirith in a windy, moonless and very cold night. Tightly wrapped in his grey elven cloak, the hood drawn deep into his face, he waited until the guard at the portal to Minas Tirith opened the visor in the great gate, responding to his brother’s knock.

His brothers and he pulled their hoods back so that the light of the lanterne the guard was holding up to have them recognised, could reach their faces.

Rúmil was the one to answer the guard and asked to be brought before King and Queen.

The news of the arrival of the three Silvan elves had spread fast and as soon as they were brought before the Royal couple to meet them in the Hall of Kings, the entire court was on their feet and filling  the open spaces.

Boromir, High Steward of Gondor was standing to the right of his kingly lover and on his right stood Lord Faramir, Prince of Ithilien.

The remaining members of the Nine Walkers were waiting just left from the Queen under the columns. 

Haldir and his brothers behind him stepped forward. Rúmil and Oropher, being of royal descend, simply bowed their heads. Haldir however stepped further forward until he stood before the Queen. Having been ordered to become her knight he bent his knee and knelt, holding out it sword to swear fealty to the Lady Arwen.

It didn’t took the Queen long to discover that her knight was still suffering from the wound that should have been his demise. It took her much longer however to find out that having her knight sharing accommodation with the other elf resident in Minas Tirith was far from a good idea.

Haldir knowing the discomfort of his two brothers in confined spaces and away from their beloved woods of Lorién urged them to leave. The brothers did swearing that the eldest only had to call and they would be at his side.

“No. Please brothers.” Haldir said on the eve of their parting. “I’d rather wished you would join Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel and board that ship. At least promise me to think about it. I am sure the Lord and Lady will allow you to leave with them if you wish to do so.” 

“But what of you?” The brothers had protested, but Haldir had kept firm. 

Knowing that it wouldn’t please the Valar to see him in the Undying Lands. Him, the elf that had been slain without dying and injured without them being able to heal him to his full potential. They couldn’t wanted him to be their constant reminder. No, he would stay behind and a serf to the Queen until the day she would perish. However he felt that he hadn’t the right to hold his brothers back. On the contrary, it would ease his mind to know that his brothers were safe in the Undying Land.

At first the Queen had tried to house the Silvan Elf and the Prince of Mirkwood together. Legolas had pulled a face and Haldir when asked if he would like to move in with the Sindarin Prince point blank refused. Her thought had been that both fluent in Quenya could keep each other company. But Haldir had bowed and answered: “No. Just … no.” 

There were clashes between the two elves and soon they learnt that it was better to avoid each other. 

~~~***~~~

Still the nagging in the back of Legolas’s mind wouldn’t cease. Had Haldir returned for the reason he suspected? Without letting himself seen he followed Haldir around. 

Throughout the day Legolas needn’t care for Haldir was always with the Queen. Being busy with inspecting the Queen’s quarters, setting up a schedule for the guards, training the men personally or discussing the use of fireworks for defense with Gandalf. 

Despite himself Legolas had to admire the thoroughness of Haldir’s regime. The Queen was clearly in safe hands in terms of her own safety. 

Sometimes when he found some time spare Aragorn now King Elessar would join, discussing the setting-up of the guards rounds or discussing the latest technologies in defending in small spaces.

No, it wasn’t Haldir’s daytime activities and whereabouts that Legolas was worried about. The Sindarin prince made sure not to let the Silvan elf slip out of his eyesight especially in the evenings and at night. 

However the first two months after Haldir’s arrival in Minas Tirith went by eventless. Legolas was almost convinced he’d erred thinking that Haldir had arrived to fulfil quite a different interest than the guarding of the ruling Queen.

Just when the Sindarin Prince was about to give up at the end of the third month until Haldir’s arrival, he noticed that Haldir was receiving a nightly visitor.

At first Legolas only saw a shadowy figure wrapped in a hooded cloak vanishing into the quarters of the Silvan elf. Visitor and elf almost of same high with the visitor slightly taller. Legolas grew uneasy and impatient in his hideaway up in one of the neighbouring trees. However not able to identify the nightly visitor he had to wait for the next night, hoping it would produce the visitor again. 

Taking his place in his spy-nest Legolas got lucky when the following night the visitor showed again. This time fully alerted Legolas managed to establish that the nightly visitor indeed was a mortal, a man. For this time the shadowy figure stopped and turned around several times to check if somebody had followed. However unawares that the Prince of Mirkwood was observing everything from his hideaway up in the tree. Discovering that the nightly visitor indeed was a man confirmed Legolas’s worst fears. 

Despite not being able to put a name on the visitor, Legolas’s fantasy filled in the gaps. He saw it all clearly.

Just now Aragorn would peel himself out of that hooded cloak and then …

It was unspeakable. Unthinkable.

Aragorn in the arms of this poncy upstart of a Silvan elf of Lorién. Legolas’s mind reeled at the mere thought. Shivers ran over his slim body.

If Aragorn wanted to be with an elf, why hadn’t he come to him? Surely Aragorn knew how he felt for him. Should a king not reach out for a prince first? What was it Haldir had to offer that he didn’t? 

Over the next consecutive nights Legolas stood guard and every night just like clockwork the hooded figure would appear and vanish for a certain amount of time inside the quarters of his rival. 

Finally Legolas couldn’t take it no longer. The following night as the hooded figure approached Legolas made ready to leap forward and rip the disguise off and confront Aragorn.

Like a panther cat his muscles tensed, his vision fixed on the target, he made ready to jump onto his prey.

He was in mid air when three voices from an adjacent garden hit his fine hearing. The voices clear distinguishable. The owners - Lady Arwen, Lord Boromir and last not least, that cackling laughter could be only one …

Yes, it was Aragorn King Elessar’s laughter.

Losing his concentration Legolas’s leap got out of direction as he shifted his weight to listen in to the voices in the next garden.  Having lost his aim, Legolas crash landed in a nearby tree, hitting the lower branches. Desperately reaching out to get hold of the trunk as a last minute rescue hoping to slide down to the ground a bit more gracefully. However he couldn’t reach and therefore crashed through and with a loud thud landed on the ground.

Two shapes appeared in the canopy of the great Mallorn Tree. Haldir and his visitor staring down at the Sindarin Prince who tumbled down to the ground making very loud noises on the way crashing through the tree.

Even the three visitors to the next door garden came running, alarmed by the ruckus created. They halted just before the tree that saw an elf tumbling through his leaves and branches. With a crunching thud the elf landed arse first exactly before their feet.

Legolas found himself surrounded by chuckling spectators. Two above looking on from the highup porch to Haldir’s new lofty new tree home and three on level ground, pressing their hands to their mouths not to laugh out loud.

“If only I had known that you too were longing for a tree home, Prince of Mirkwood.” The Queen said sweetly, struggling hard to keep the giggles at bay. “I would have arranged for another Mallorn Tree to be brought to Minas Tirith. Alas, I was obviously mistaken that you prefer the sheltered wall of our castle. Aragorn, wasn’t it you who told me that the Prince’s father lives in a palace hewn from a cave? You certainly must have pulled my leg.”

Legolas got up from the ground where he had plunged, dusted himself up and then stiffly bowed to the royal couple. “M’Lady, there is no need to trouble your beloved grandmother with such a request. I am very content and quite satisfied with the quarters provided for me.” 

Legolas bowed again and with a straight back and desperately trying to conceal the limp he got from the fall, he left.

Of course Boromir and Aragorn couldn’t let him get away so easily.

Over the following days Legolas had to endure what the two thought to be witty remarks about the dangers of fruit picking or tree climbing after dusk in general.

“Alas, he has to face it, I fear,” Aragorn mockingly sighed addressing Boromir in a fashion that the remark must be overheard by the elf in question. “that he indeed is not really a Woodelf by nature.”

~~~***~~~

The weeks ahead saw a small smirk playing on the Silvan elf’s lips. Even now sitting before his mug in a nearby inn Haldir couldn’t hide the grin. A small pouch containing several coins in front of him on the table. 

A tall soldier entered the inn looked around and on seeing the Queen’s knight, nodded in recognition.

Haldir got up and walking passed the man on his way out whispered “Thanks”. The man then sat down at the table freed by the elf and brushed the pouch into his coat pocket.

Haldir threw a last glance at the man at the desk. In the flickering halflight of the candles the man was easily mistaken for the King of Gondor.

Haldir chuckled as he turned his steps towards his Mallorn Tree home.

“That’ll teach you, Prince of Mirkwood, to make assumptions.” He whispered with a smirk on his face.

A shadow peeled himself off the dark corner-wall of the inn and a hooded figure followed the Silvan Elf until the little park was reached that held the newly planted grove and the majestic Mallorn Tree that was Haldir’s new home. 

Just before entering the elf stopped, waited.

His shadow moved silently closer until he was almost in touching distance.

Haldir stood, whispering the words of a spell. When finished he waited for as long as the blink of an eye before stepping into the grove. This moment the shadow used to enter the park slipping past the elf.

The shadow climbed up the stairs running along the tree’s trunk and halted only when he reached the door to Haldir’s loft. 

Haldir slowly followed upstairs and on reaching the landing opened the door for the shadow to slip inside before the elf followed after.

Closing doors and blinds, Haldir began to lit the lights and the shadow peeled himself out of his heavy elven cloak before reaching out for his host to take him into his embrace.

Haldir smiled, stroking the long hair, running his fingers through the soft strands, then over the cheeks and chaw intangling into the beard of his visitor.

“So glad that you made it.” Haldir said leaning in for a welcoming kiss.

“Thought we’d never lose that nosey elf.” His guest sighed getting a second helping of Haldir’s lips.

The two broke the kiss, linked arms and walked arm in arm into Haldir’s bedroom.

There was no rush. This night was theirs.

Theirs alone.

THE END


End file.
